


Mary and his Angel

by MagicalCookie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Louis is a little shit in this, Louis-centric, M/M, Niall-centric, Nouis, This was meant to be, but he has a heart of gold, but it's kind of, nativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalCookie/pseuds/MagicalCookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Scanning the page, Louis found ‘Joseph’ and saw... No. That couldn’t be right. Louis blinked rapidly before staring at the paper, but the words did not change. There, printed in capitals, was the most awful thing he had ever seen: LIAM PAYNE."</p>
<p>Nativity time is stressful enough, but at an all boys' primary school, there is an added issue: some poor soul must play the part of Mary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mary and his Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some Christmas-y fluff that I wanted to post before Christmas was over. It's a bit longer than it was meant to be, but oh well... Oh and I know Niall wouldn't be blonde at 6/7 but it made the whole angel thing perfect so he is naturally blonde in this. 
> 
> About the school: I'm from England and my Primary School was split into Upper and Lower School and they each had their own Christmas productions, which is why I wrote the story this way. Upper school was year 3-6 ( ages 7-11) and Lower school was Reception to year 2 (4-7). Just some extra info in case you got confused... 
> 
> (Also I'm not mocking Christianity in anyway, this is just a bit of dumb fluff)

Winter had finally settled on the picturesque village of Holmes Chapel, light dustings of snow sprinkling the houses and trees like a scene found in a snow globe, the flurries of snow drifting down like the glass ball had been gently shook. It was a peaceful scene for anyone walking through the village, but they need only look a little further into the windows of the village primary school to see a completely contrasting setting.

St John’s Primary School for Boys was in _anarchy._ People were pushing and shoving, hair was pulled, feet were crushed, and these were only the actions of one small boy – Louis Tomlinson.

Mere moments before, the teacher had pinned up the casting list for that year’s Lower School Nativity and Louis desperately needed to know his part, so no casualties were spared as he forced his way through the other children who were swarming around the small piece of paper.  He really hoped he’d got the part of Joseph, although a Shepherd might be _ok._ Just as long as he was not a _cow_ like last year. He was in year 2 now, so he should finally be able to get a main part. All the younger kids were limited to backing vocals or scenery if they were lucky. The fact that Louis got a whole line last year (although there had been a heated debate over whether “Moo” counted as a line at all) was miraculous and he knew it was his sterling acting skills which won Mrs Cole over.

But this year, _this_ year, there were no annoying older kids to nab the good parts – the upper school got their _own_ production. Louis had a feeling, right down in his belly, that this year he would be the _star_ of the show. (Although not literally a star as all the Star got to do was stand at the back and ‘twinkle’ for an hour.)

Louis gradually pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and gazed up at the list of names. He noticed his friend Harry was a sheep, which he was sure the boy would be happy with. The curly-haired boy had wonderful features for the stage, but he did talk _ever so_ slowly, so long lines would always be a no-no for him.

Scanning the page, Louis found ‘Joseph’ and saw... _No._ That couldn’t be right. Louis blinked rapidly before staring at the paper, but the words did not change. There, printed in capitals, was the most awful thing he had ever seen: LIAM PAYNE.

Now, Louis had never had an issue with this Liam boy. Sure, he was a little quiet and a bit of a goody-two-shoes, but he’d never gotten in Louis’ way... until now.

Louis frantically searched the sheet and did not have to look far since, right under Liam, was Louis’ name in similar capitalised font. Louis quickly changed his mind. _This_ was by far the most terrible thing to _ever_ happen in the history of _ever._

Louis Tomlinson had been cast as the role of... _Mary._

_Oh_ , the unfairness of the universe! What had Louis ever done to deserve this? Apart from the time he painted his desk blue and put bogies in Zayn’s juice and permanently borrowed Ed’s chocolate biscuits and...

Well ok, he’d done a _few_ things in his time. Played a few jokes here and there. But this punishment was _hardly_ in the same league as those harmless pranks.

Louis had known this was going to happen, to an extent. It was one of the key issues that came with an all-boys school: when Nativity time rolled around, some poor sod got landed with _Mary._ But why _him?_

Louis angrily snatched the cast list from its blu-tack hold on the board, ignoring the whines of the other children, and stomped over to his teacher and the organiser of the Nativity – Mrs Cole. The brunette teacher had tried to calm down the stampede of children at first, but when she released little could be down but wait for them all to read the sheet, she had retreated to her desk in the hopes that nobody would be severely injured.

“What kind of mean joke is this?” Louis snapped, eyes narrowing and looking surprisingly intimidating for a seven-year-old. He usually liked his young teacher – she spoke with a funny accent and gave them biscuits on Friday afternoons – but she was currently Louis Enemy Number One, all her previous good deeds forgotten.

Mrs Cole considered chiding Louis for his rudeness but instead turned to give him her full attention as she had, in all fairness, expected a tantrum like this.

“Now Louis, I know you think you’ve been dealt a bad hand here-” she began calmly, sitting on one of the kiddie’s chairs so she could match his height.

“ _Think?”_ Louis exclaimed, brandishing the casting sheet before slamming it down on the table. “I _know_ this is bad! It’s absolutely dreadful!”

Mrs Cole eyed the rest of the class, most of whom were not-so-subtly watching the dramatic boy. “Let’s go for a walk Louis, and talk somewhere else.”

She led him out of the classroom, down the corridor and into the library. Louis warily eyed the towering shelves of books surrounding him, having only entered this room about four times in his whole life, and never by choice. Mrs Cole sank down into one of the squishy beanbags and gestured for Louis to use the one opposite her, which he did.

“Now Louis,” she began, with a small smile. “You and I both know your acting skills are exceptional.” Louis nodded quickly, in agreement. He wasn’t sure what that word meant but it sounded good so obviously it was true. “And surely you know that Mary is the main character in this story?”

“Joseph is too,” Louis informed her, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Well, yes, Joseph is important, but if I was to show you the script you would see that Mary has twice as many lines as him.”

“So?”

“ _So,_ I made you Mary because I think you’re the only student capable of playing her properly. That’s our little secret, ok? But you’re definitely the best actor in the class.”

Louis considered Mrs Cole’s words for a moment, deciding that he still wasn’t convinced. Of course she was right in thinking he was the best but surely _someone_ else could handle the role. Maybe someone who already acted like a girl and wouldn’t find it too hard to play one...

“But Mary’s a _girl,”_ Louis eventually whined. “Can’t someone else play her?”

“Well,” Mrs Cole sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “If you desperately don’t want to be Mary you’ll have to persuade one of the others to swap characters with you.”

Louis grinned at the idea, the cogs in his mind whirring into action as he formulated a plan. “I can do that!” He was nothing if not _persuasive._

When Louis pranced back into the classroom, he made a beeline straight for Harry, a determined glint in his eyes. The curly-haired boy, who had been colouring in a picture of a reindeer, recognised this and was immediately on his guard.

“He Lou,” Harry said carefully, as the shorter boy took the seat next to him. “Good job on getting the main part...”

“Thanks Haz,” Louis chirped, deceivingly innocent. “But I think we both know I’m not cut out to play Mary.”

“Well-”

“ _Don’t_ we, Haz?” Harry nodded reluctantly. Louis was apparently in one of _those_ moods, where his word became law. “Good, because I need your help. Mrs Cole said I can swap with somebody else. But _obviously_ I’m not going to swap with just anyone – I still need a key role in this production. So I need you to help me persuade someone to let me swap parts with them. But they’ve got to be either Joseph, a Shepherd, or _maybe_ a Wise Man, I guess.”

“Ok then,” Harry nodded again, always willing to help his friend in his plotting, no matter how ridiculous his schemes were. “Liam Payne has got the part of Joseph.”

“I know,” Louis growled. “Which is why he’s our first target.”

Louis scanned the classroom and found Liam in the Quiet Corner with a tanned boy called... Zack? Zed? Louis didn’t really know or care. The blue-eyed boy drew himself up to his full (albeit limited) height and stalked across the classroom to the two boys who were seemingly oblivious to the incoming Hurricane Louis. Louis rarely stepped into the Quiet Corner, but he was faced with an emergency and appropriate sacrifices had to be made.  

When Louis reached the boys with Harry trailing behind him, they still did not look up from the book they were reading together, so Louis – not appreciating the lack of attention – cleared his throat pompously.

This got their attention, and Louis was faced with two pairs of brown eyes: one pair soft and friendly, the other narrowed slightly in annoyance. 

“Hey Louis, Harry,” Liam said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension that had settled over them. “Have you seen the cast list for the Nativity yet? It’s kinda funny that we’ll have to pretend to be a couple, isn’t it, Louis? You might even have to wear a dress!” Liam chuckled, but the laughter quickly died when he finally noticed Harry waving his hands in a way that said: _shut up!_ It was then that he noticed the steel in Louis’ glare.

“I will most certainly _not_ be wearing a dress, _Payne,”_ Louis said, as calmly as possible. “I’ve actually come to offer you a preposition.”

“A prepo- A what?” Liam wondered.

“A deal,” the boy sitting next to him helpfully supplied.

“Quiet Zack,” Louis snapped and the dark-haired boy’s jaw clenched.

“It’s _Zayn,”_ he informed Louis, eyeing him with distrust.  Perhaps it was because the blue-eyed boy hadkicked a muddy football at his back last week, but that had _mostly_ been an accident. Louis had been aiming for Zayn’s _head._

“Yes, I was wondering if you’d like to swap parts with me?” Louis offered Liam his most charming smile and completely ignored Zayn.

“Oh... er, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Liam looked genuinely guilty. “Joseph doesn’t have too many lines, but Mary does and I don’t know if I’d be able to remember them all. Also... well... Mary has a solo which is a bit, erm, _high.”_

“So?” Louis raised an eyebrow and Liam had never seen anyone make such a simple movement seem so threatening.

“Well, um, Louis,” Liam was going slowly red in the face, stuttering and stumbling over his words.

Zayn sighed deeply, before standing up and looking Louis directly in the eye. “What Liam’s trying to say is that you have a higher voice, Tomlinson, so your voice is better for a girl’s part.”

Louis could feel his eye twitching slightly, as he struggled to control his temper and stare Zayn down. Eventually, Louis ground out through gritted teeth, in as deep a voice as he could muster, “I do _not_ sound like a girl.”

The rest of the day featured Louis and Harry asking (or more accurately, _ordering_ ) every single Shepherd, Wise Man and Inn Keeper (Louis had become truly desperate) if they would be willing to trade parts, to no avail.

“You know Lou,” Harry sighed, as the two of them slumped back down at their usual table, identifiable by its faint blue tint. “If it means so much to you, _we_ could always swap?”

“I think I’d rather be a girl than a sheep,” Louis snapped, before freezing when he realised what he’d said. “Sorry Haz. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did,” Harry grinned easily, so used to Louis’ unintentional and intentional insults that they no longer fazed him. “It’s alright, I was kind of expecting an answer like that, but I thought it was worth trying.”

“Thanks,” Louis muttered. “I feel like I’m missing something though... It’s really annoying. Go grab the casting list... er please?”

Harry sniggered at Louis’ half-hearted attempt at politeness and did what he was asked. He then handed the sheet over to Louis who scanned it, muttering to himself.

“Tree... ugh, _Donkey,_ Joseph... stupid Liam... stupider Zayn, Sheep, Angel, Pig... Angel Gabriel... _Wait!”_

“What is it?” Harry wondered, slightly alarmed at his friend’s sudden outburst.

“Angel Gabriel! Of course! How many lines does he have?” Louis fixed his clear gaze on Harry who floundered at the sudden question. 

“Um, quite a few, I guess? I know he’s got a solo...”

“This is perfect! I can play Angel Gabriel! I’d make a brilliant angel, right?”

Harry didn’t say anything, and they both eyed each other awkwardly for a moment before breaking down into furious giggles.

“Ok... ok, but I’m a great actor so I can _pretend_ to be an angel, can’t I?” Louis amended.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry agreed, still laughing lightly. “But who’s down to play him at the moment?”

“Niall Horan.”

Niall Horan joined their school at the beginning of the school year: all blonde hair, bright blue eyes (which Louis was a little wary of since they might actually be prettier than _his_ ) and constant giggles. He hadn’t really slipped into a specific friendship group, either. He seemed to flit, like some strange Irish Hummingbird, between everyone – seemingly too full of smiles and hugs to limit them to just two or three people. Louis was rather fond of the boy (despite the threat of pretty eyes) since he was just so _tiny_ and _lovely_.

Louis was no longer the smallest in the class, which was a relief, and Niall seemed to have taken a real shine to him. Whenever he hung around with Louis, he laughed at literally anything he said, which was rather nice since someone was finally appreciating that he was a comedic genius. The boy listened to every word that fell from Louis’ lips – no matter how nonsensical – and watched him with something akin to awe on his little features.

Niall idolised Louis, so he knew it would be no trouble persuading the petite boy to trade parts with him. Furthermore, Louis knew Niall could handle playing Mary since he really did have the voice of an angel; the casting was spot on, in this instance, at least. More often than not, Niall could be found singing at the top of his lungs and even when belting out bizarre Irish folk songs, there was a certain sweet tone to his words that made people stop and listen with a smile on their face. Louis knew he could handle Mary’s solo, no problem.

“Where is Niall, then?” Harry asked, gazing around the room in search of the blonde boy who was usually quite hard to miss.

“Oh, he’s off with the flu,” Louis responded automatically, and Harry stared at him. Louis blinked, surprised too. He did not usually make it his business to be aware of other people’s affairs. But for some reason, he had remembered Niall’s mum telling his mum that the little Irish had boy had been quite poorly.

“Um, anyway,” Louis mumbled, cheeks going slightly pink. “I’ll go and visit him after school. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be Angel Gabriel, just you wait and see.”

*

“Hey mum!” Louis hugged his mother as he ran to greet her after school, having already waved goodbye to Harry.

“Hey sweetie, how was school today?” Johannah Tomlinson asked, as she buttoned up her sons coat to his chin, to protect him against the icy flakes still continuing to fall from the sky.  

“It was great, I got 8/10 on a maths test, but that’s not important. What’s important is that I _really_ need to see Niall mum!” The small boy announced, cheeks already turning pink from the cold.

“Niall? Oh, but Louis Niall’s a bit poorly at the moment. Don’t you remember? He’s been off with the flu.”

“I _know,”_ Louis said with a roll of his eyes, pulling his mum towards the school gates whilst still navigating the ice-slicked path. “That’s why I’ve got to see him – to make sure he’s ok.”

Johannah smiled at the unexpected soft side showing on her son. It was pleasantly surprising.

“Ooh, actually can we stop at the shop first?” Louis exclaimed, his face lighting up with an idea. “We should buy Niall some chocolate to... er, make him feel better!”

“Of course we can hun, what a wonderful idea.”

Louis internally cheered at his own cunning. He _was_ good at playing an angel. Louis knew Niall was a sucker for food, so surely a little bribery would not go amiss if both parties got what they wanted?

Louis and Niall both lived within walking distance of the school – they lived at opposite ends of the same street – so the walk was no trouble. At least, it wouldn’t be if the pavement had anything their shoes could grip onto. Johannah found herself cursing the cold weather as her son slipped and slid down the street; her heart would jump into her throat every time he wobbled even a little and by the time the pair neared the Horan household, she felt like she’d experienced 10 years worth of stress in 10 minutes.  

Spotting number twelve, Louis skidded across the slightly icy path to ring the Horan’s doorbell, having to reach onto his tippy-toes to do so. A very tall boy opened the door; he and Louis stared at each other in confusion.

“Maaaaaaaaam!” The boy yelled, not taking his eyes off Louis. _Irish,_ Louis noted. This must have been the infamous Greg Horan Niall always talked about. “There’s a small child on our doorstep!”

“Who are you calling _small?”_ Louis asked sassily, placing his gloved hands on his hips as his mother joined him.

“Don’t be rude Louis,” Johannah berated, giving her son a warning look, before turning to the boy at the door. “Hi, you must be Greg. I’m Johannah and this is my son Louis. He’s a friend of Niall’s?”

“Ah, ok, come in then, I guess?” Greg stepped aside to let them in as a flustered Maura Horan hurried to greet them from the kitchen, flowered apron tied around her neck.

“Oh, Jo!” Maura said happily, watching Greg slouch back upstairs as the Tomlinson’s discarded their damp coats and such. “It’s lovely to see you!”

“You too-”

“Can I please see Niall?” Louis asked, smiling sweetly but wanting to cut to the chase, as adults did tend to bore him with their tedious conversations.

“Of course, Louis, he’s in his room if you’d like to go straight up? Don’t get too cosy, though. We wouldn’t want you to catch his nasty bug.”

“Of course not Mrs Horan,” Louis beamed, before bouncing up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Louis located Niall’s room, helpfully labelled with a sign stating ‘Niall’ in loopy handwriting and surrounded by music notes. He pushed the door open without knocking and saw nothing but blankets piled onto the bed and _so many_ used tissues. Louis carefully made his way across the room, eyeing the swaddle of blankets which, now that he was looking, seemed to be... _breathing?_

“Niall?” Louis asked quietly.

No answer.

Louis edged a little closer, still sidestepping tissues and mugs and other germ-ridden things.

_“Niall?”_ he said firmly, in his no-nonsense-don’t-ignore-me-I’m-Louis-Tomlinson voice.

Still no answer.

Sighing dramatically, Louis reached the bed and peeled off one of the blankets. Then another and another, until a small mountain of them were on the floor and only one was left, featuring a pattern of Winnie the Pooh characters. Little tufts of blonde hair peaked out from underneath it and Louis decided he would take pity on the Irish boy _this_ time, and not mock the childish item.

Louis shook what he thought was Niall’s shoulder, underneath Eeyore’s bottom, and he elicited some grumbling from the blanket. Further nudging did little else so Louis pulled the last blanket away and found a sleepy Niall pouting up at him.

“ _Lou,”_ he whined, making grabby hands at the blanket, with eyes drooping shut. “I’m _cold.”_

“You can have the blanket if you promise not to fall asleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis handed the blanket over, rolling his eyes when Niall wrapped himself up in it so only his head poked out, nose red and blue eyes glassy. Louis reminded himself to be _nice_ because the boy was ill after all. “Budge up then.”

Louis hopped onto the bed, stretching his legs out and thinking over his strategy: be _nice._ “So how are you feeling? Missed three days of school now, haven’t you? That must be good.”

“Well,” Niall smiled wryly. “I did spend the last three days throwing up.” Louis cringed slightly and Niall noticed, giggling. “Don’t worry, I think I’m over that now. Should be at school soon... As soon as I... I...”

Niall’s nose twitched and Louis stared at him expectantly.

“You...?”

“I... Achoo!” Niall sneezed with such a force that his upper body was flung forward. He then sat up, eyes wide and looking very much like a startled bunny. Louis couldn’t help but smile at the adorable boy.

“Sorry,” Niall sniffed, reaching for another tissue. “That’s why I’m still home. I keep sneezing.”

“Well, you know, there _is_ one good thing about being ill,” Louis said vaguely, reaching for the bag he’d brought with him. “You get ‘Get Well Soon’ presents.”

“You do?” Niall looked so cute when he was confused, head tilted to the side like a puppy, that Louis could not resist ruffling his hair so it fell into further disarray.  

“Yes you do, and I’ve brought you one.”

“ _You_ brought _me_ a present?” Niall beamed, lighting up like an extravagantly bright Christmas tree. He watched, amazed, as Louis placed a large box of chocolates on his lap. “ _Wow,_ t’anks Lou-weeeeeeeeee!”

Before Louis could blink, he was pulled into a tight hug that he barely had a moment to enjoy before he was pushed away again.

“I’m sorry Lou! That was so stupid... I might make you ill too... I’m really sorry.” Niall nibbled on two of his fingernails worriedly.

“It’s alright Nialler,” Louis soothed, and the smaller boy blushed at the nickname. “You’ll never guess what happened today?”

“What?” Niall asked expectantly, already excited at the prospect of a Louis Story.

“They gave out the parts for the Nativity today.”

“Ooh!” Niall squealed excitedly. “I bet you got Joseph, didn’t you? Your audition was _so_ good they’d be mad to let anyone else have that part!”

“That’s the thing Nialler,” Louis shook his head, patting his friend’s knee in a sorrowful sort of way. “The teachers must be mad because they made _Liam_ Joseph.”

“No!” Niall gasped, jumping onto Louis’ knees and looking him in the eyes. “It’s not true!”

“It _is_ true,” Louis informed him, shuffling his legs a little so Niall could sit comfortably on them. The blonde was so slight that his weight did not bother him. “And do you know who I’m playing?”

“ _Who?”_

“Mary,” Louis said solemnly. Niall’s eyes widened, then an unexpected grin broke out on his face, little dimple appearing on his chin.

“But that’s great, Lou! Mary’s the best part. You’ll be the star of the show, just like you wanted.”

“You misunderstand,” Louis informs Niall. “I _can’t_ play Mary. It’s a girl’s part.”

“But there aren’t any girls in our class, are there?” Niall’s eyebrows and nose crinkled and Louis did his best not to coo.

“No there aren’t. But that is irrelevant. We both know I shouldn’t play her, right?”

“Right,” Niall nodded rapidly in agreement.

“So, I have a preposition for you Niall.”

“A prepo... prepas... Um, ok?” Niall’s cheeks turned even pinker, and he bit his lip nervously. He didn’t want to seem stupid in front of Louis.

“It means I want to make a deal,” Louis explained slowly, and Niall nodded to show he understood. “You were cast as the Angel Gabriel, Niall.”

“Wow, really? That’s so cool!” Niall hopped up on the bed and held his blanket out. “Do you think I’ll get wings? That would be awesome!”

He flapped the blanket as thought he was prepared to fly already.

“Woah, woah, woah, come back here Niall,” Louis said as sternly as he could, tugging on Niall’s pyjama bottoms until he sat down (on Louis’ legs) again. “This is where the deal comes in.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Niall... I need you to swap parts with me.”

“Um... are we allowed to do that?”

“Of course we are! Mrs Cole said so.”

“I don’t know Louis... Mary is quite a big part. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“Positive – I think you’d make a fantastic Mary. The best one ever.”

Niall looked down at his lap, where he fiddled with his fingers. He sneezed again – quite high-pitched and so adorable that Louis knew Niall could play a girl better than him. He took hold of pale little fingers and squeezed them gently, making Niall look up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Will you do it for me, Nialler?”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded determinedly, offering a bright smile. “I’ll do it for you.”

“You’ll be brilliant,” Louis informed the Irish boy, drinking in the sight of Niall’s cerulean eyes glistening like sunshine on the ocean. “This will be the best Nativity ever.”

*

“This is going to be the worst Nativity _ever_ ,” Nick – one of the Wise Men – groaned, when Niall messed up his lines _again._ He was the only one still having significant trouble with his lines and the first performance was only a couple of weeks away.

Niall could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he did his best not to let them fall while keeping his gaze fixed on the back of the hall, away from everyone’s staring eyes.

“Niall has twice as many lines as everyone else,” Liam informed Nick, and the Irish boy smiled at him gratefully, though he knew it must have looked wobbly as smiling was the last thing Niall felt like doing.

“Well if he can’t handle the lines, he shouldn’t have the part in the first place,” Nick continued to sneer, adjusting his crown and sticking his nose in the air, having been one of the few children to already have props.

“I don’t see _you_ volunteering to take his place,” Louis snapped, stalking over to the boy angrily.

“ _Louis,_ please stay in position,” Mrs Cole begged, rubbing the bridge of her nose to stave off an impending headache.

“This is all your fault Tomlinson,” Nick goaded, staring down at the fuming boy and feeling superior as he once again noticed the significant height difference. “Why did you get the pathetic new kid to embarrass himself like this, huh? It’s a bit cruel, even for you, isn’t it?”

Niall was now biting his lip so hard he feared it may start bleeding soon, still doing his best not to look a single person in the eye. Liam laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as he tried to take steady breaths: _in_... and _out_.

“Louis! Nick! I’ll send you both out if you don’t go back to your places! ... _Thank_ you. Ok, from the beginning of the scene please, guys.”

“I hope we can find an inn for us, the baby will be coming soon,” Niall recited, rubbing his imaginary baby bump. He couldn’t help but think of what Nick had said – what if he was right? Louis was always playing jokes so maybe this was another one: having him play a girl and make a fool of himself. The thought felt like lead, a heavy feeling sinking from his chest and into his tummy.

Niall felt someone nudging him and looked up, alarmed.

“ _Niall,”_ Liam muttered through his teeth. “ _Line.”_

“Oh... uh, I, um often think about what the, er... angel said to me about being... I mean _not_ being afraid and um... oh no...”

Niall looked so crestfallen at how he’d messed up again, staring at his shoes and biting his nails, that Mrs Cole couldn’t help but take pity on the small boy.

“I think we’ll take a break guys,” she informed the class. Niall quickly darted out of the hall and headed straight for the year 2 classroom, not wanting to cry in front of anyone. He didn’t notice Louis following him out.

He went into the cloakroom and sank to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them. Quickly giving up holding his tears in, Niall let the salty drops trickle down his cheeks, little sobs escaping.

Louis followed the muffled cries and a dull ache formed in his chest at the sight of the blonde boy. He froze for a moment when Niall took his face from knees; he felt like his heart had stopped. Suddenly, Louis _understood._ Niall was an angel, no doubt about it.

Even when crying, he was just so _pretty_ with his eyes glittering in his pale face like jewels and his cheeks pink and rosy. Louis knew nobody could play the Angel better than Niall – not even himself – and to deny the world of that would be a great injustice.

Louis cleared his throat to make his presence known, and Niall jumped in shock. Noticing Louis, he could not help but recoil, fearing that he’d come to mock him further.

“Oh, Niall...” Louis sighed, taking slow steps towards the blonde boy. “You don’t believe what Nick said, do you? Nick is always full of rubbish and you can’t trust him.”

Niall had stopped edging away, wide teary eyes blinking up at him pathetically.

“So... this wasn’t one of your jokes?” he eventually mumbled.

“Of course not! I would never do that to you Niall!” Louis replied, shocked, holding his hand to his heart as he spoke. “To pick on someone smaller than me would make me a bully! No, I honestly thought that you would make a brilliant Mary.”

“Then I’ve let you down,” Niall sniffled, moving to hide his face again as more tears dripped down his cheeks.

“No! No, you haven’t Nialler! But I can see now that you were meant to be Gabriel all along.” Louis cupped Niall’s cheek gently, with his hand, forcing the boy to look up at him.

“But... it’s too late to change parts now, isn’t it?”

“Of course not! We shall march in there right now and tell Mrs Cole that you will be playing Gabriel and me, Mary!”

“But I’ll never be able to learn all the new lines on time... I’ll just end up ruining a different part.”

“Wrong again, Nialler. I’m going to help you learn all your lines until you’re perfect and together we’ll _both_ be stars of the show!”

*

On the night of their first performance, Niall was finally given his angel costume which had had to be remade when it was found to be several sizes too big for the tiny child. After slipping it on, Niall ran to find Louis, eager to show him the beautiful outfit.

“Louis! Louis!” he called, stumbling a little as he ran over to Louis who was frowning down at his own costume. It consisted of brown sandals, a headdress, a pillow baby-bump and worst of all... a powder blue _dress._

Louis looked up from where he had been scowling down at his costume, prepared to whine about how unfair his life was, but when he saw Niall his jaw dropped.

“ _Niall,”_ he gasped, standing up and walking around the boy who shifted uncomfortably at the way he was openly staring. “What are you wearing?”

“Erm... my angel robe?” Niall replied hesitantly, unsure if that was the answer the slightly taller boy wanted.

“No... Oh no,” Louis murmured, coming around Niall to face him again. Slowly, his frown turned into a smile which then stretched into a beaming grin. “You’re wearing a _dress!”_

Niall blushed, and looked down at the white material he was wearing, which did seem suspiciously dress-like now that he thought about it. The sparkles didn’t really help.

“This is wonderful!” Louis clapped his hands together in joy, before taking Niall’s hand and twirling the blonde around once. “Oh and it’s so sparkly! Niall, this is perfect; I’m not the only one wearing a dress anymore, so people can’t make fun of me! ... Not that they’d dare to anyway, but you can never be too careful.”

Niall giggled, happy that Louis was happy again. “We can be dress buddies! Show everybody that we can make dresses look cool!”

“Absolutely!” Louis agreed, fingering the skirt of his outfit, before laughing good-naturedly. “Everyone will be jealous of how pretty we look!”

*

That evening, plenty of things went wrong, as would be expected of a lower school production. However, despite the costume mishaps, self-destroying scenery and technical difficulties, Niall was _perfect,_ in Louis’ opinion _._ He delivered every line without a fault and Louis gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back for teaching the boy everything he knew.

Seeing the blonde up there on the stage, truly _glowing_ (possibly due to excessive amounts of glitter on his cheeks but Louis liked to think Niall’s pale skin glowed naturally anyway) and singing his little heart our made a small bubble swell in his chest. It felt a little bit like pride, a little bit like awe and a lot like love.

Louis was right (as usual). He and Niall _were_ the stars of the show. And Louis didn’t mind sharing the spotlight, when it meant he could bask in Niall’s beaming smile. As they took their final curtsies (the two boys decided to take advantage of their pretty frocks) to the roar of applause, Louis decided that although being Mary wasn’t so bad, Joseph could bugger off because he would much rather hold an angel’s tiny pale hand, thank you very much. 


End file.
